


The One Where Snow Might (Not) Be the Worst Thing Ever

by anextraordinarymuse (December_Daughter)



Series: Paint By Numbers: Prompts from the Inbox [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6744961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/December_Daughter/pseuds/anextraordinarymuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "It's only one night, we'll just share the bed."</p>
<p>Originally posted on my tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I opened my inbox for prompts.
> 
> Then this happened.

**"It's only one night, we'll just share the bed."**

* * *

 

Winter was officially the _worst_ season imaginable. The snow was beautiful, sure, but it was also cold and impossible to escape and Abby hated it.

Marcus Kane loved it, however, because he loved to be contrary and difficult. He probably only liked it to spite her.

“It’s perfect.” Marcus was beaming as he stared out over the pristine white expanse.

“It’s awful,” Abby growled.

He laughed at that - straight out laughed, flashing teeth and all. She pulled her coat tighter around herself.

“It’s not so bad, Abby.”

“I may as well be swimming from the knees down, Marcus. If I threw my socks on a fire right now, it’d go out.”

Next to her, Nate Miller snickered. Abby glared at him.

Bellamy saved the day just then by calling out, “We’re here.”

“Thank god,” Abby huffed.

They passed through the city gates and into the Polis marketplace. Most of the booths were still open and running despite the cold, and Abby noted that those people milling about were considerably more prepared for the season than her people were.

Marcus, Miller, Bellamy, and Harper shed their weapons before they stepped into the elevator as a group and made the trip to the upper floors. Clarke and Luna were waiting for them. To Abby’s relief, Luna dismissed them soon after they made their greetings, with promises to meet again first thing in the morning.

And then Clarke dropped a mini-bomb on her. “Uh … you and Marcus are going to have to share a room. The outermost ones are open to the elements and can’t be used again until spring, and there aren’t enough inner ones to go around.”

Abby pointedly ignored the sudden and erratic flutter of her heart. “That’s fine, Clarke. Just tell us where to go so I can take these boots off.”

That erratic flutter in her heart morphed into something like a steady explosion of fireworks when they arrived in the room and discovered that there was only one bed.

Neither she or Marcus brought attention to their sleeping arrangements until some time later, when they were both barefoot and ready for bed.

“I’ll take the floor,” Marcus said.

Abby stared at him incredulously. “I will handle the snow because I have to, Marcus, but I will not listen to you complain about how much your back hurts because of some misguided attempt to be chivalrous.”

“Misguided?”

“It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.”

She expected him to argue and was surprised when he didn’t. “Okay.”

If Abby had a tiny moment of panic when she realized that they would be sharing the bed half naked, because their pants were soaked and couldn’t be slept in, then she hid it well.

If she woke the next morning with her back pressed snugly into the warm expanse of Marcus’s chest, one of his long arms draped over her waist and tucked beneath her, well … maybe she could rethink her hatred of the snow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the original prompt.

Marcus had been asleep maybe an hour - two at the most - when he was woken by the violent, full body tremors emanating from the slight woman next to him. Falling asleep had been difficult despite his relative tiredness, so it took him the space of several breaths to be aware of what had roused him.

“Abby?” His voice carried easily in the dark stillness.

“Hmm?” The hummed response came from beneath the fur blankets. 

“Are you all right?” Marcus had fallen asleep on his back, and now he pushed himself up on his elbows and turned his head in Abby’s general direction. 

He could just make out the movement of the blanket as Abby stirred. The top edge was thrown back to reveal Abby from the neck up.

“It’s freezing in here,” she admitted. 

Marcus rolled toward her and onto his side. Cautiously, he extended an arm through the emptiness until his fingers brushed against her back. She was curled in on herself.

“Come here,” he said. 

Abby hesitated; Marcus waited until she had started scooting herself back over the bed to reach his arm across her waist and pull them together. His heart somersaulted through his chest; he held his breath. 

A beat, and then two, and then Abby uncoiled slightly and tucked herself into his body heat. Then her toes connected with his shin and Marcus veritably squeaked. 

“God, Abby, your toes are icicles!” he hissed at her. 

She sounded smug when she answered. “Blame it on the snow.”

Marcus had draped his arm over her waist in an attempt to disseminate more of his body heat, but he’d been careful to lay his hand on the bed a discreet distance away from her chest. Abby decided that wasn’t good enough.

Abby put one (cold) hand on his arm and followed it down to his hand. She paused, and then looped her fingers around his wrist and dragged his hand back toward her so that she could tuck it up between her ribcage and the mattress. 

Marcus tried not to think about the swell of her breast where it rested against his forearm, or the steady rise and fall of her diaphragm as she breathed, or the brush of her hair against his nose and chin. 

Abby relaxed beneath him in stages, until she’d stopped shivering entirely. Marcus had thought that it’d be impossible to go back to sleep, but the longer he listened to her breathe - the slower and deeper it became - the heavier he felt, until he slipped over the edge into peaceful slumber.

When he woke the next morning his hand was still trapped between Abby and the mattress. The irritating tingling sensation told him that his arm had fallen asleep. 

He ignored it.


End file.
